Chapter 3-What my Father left behind
837 Words
It was a long night. It was the longest night I'd ever had. I kept staring at my phone, glancing through every word in that document.
An outstanding debt transfer. How does that make sense? My father might have made bad business choices, but this was different.
Yet there it was, beneath every page: the same signature. My father's.
I sat on the edge of my old bed. My room was still exactly as I'd left it years ago, every memory I had left behind.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Ms Vance,” I turned and looked towards the door.
"You should eat something," Mrs. Carter said, setting a tray on the table beside my bed.
I turned away. "I'm not hungry."
"You sound exactly like your mother when she's upset," she continued. "You're not helping yourself by refusing to eat."
“That's not really comforting,” I scoffed.
"I'm leaving very soon anyway," I said. "Please just take care of yourself."
She walked toward the door, then paused. The doorbell rang.
"You shouldn't have come back," she whispered as she stepped outside.
Too many riddles. Too many questions. I hadn't expected things to change so much in four years, but everyone here had aged somehow.
I heard voices as I walked down the stairs. Mrs. Carter was speaking with some men.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"Miss Vance, someone needs to see you," she said, stepping aside.
There he stood—looking cold and untouchable. He walked closer, his eyes were still, somehow filled with memories.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, gesturing for Mrs. Carter to leave.
"I own this property now," he said, handing me a paper.
"Sorry?"
"Your father sold the house to me two years ago," he continued flatly. He handed me some documents.
Just when I thought I couldn't be more shocked.
Tears welled up in my eyes. How could my father be so stupid? So ignorant? My mother had built this house. He just gave it away without a second thought.
"I was leaving anyway," I sighed.
“Leaving” He sounded surprised, but he didn't look surprised. He had no emotional expressions.
"Yes. I suppose you could take everything in the house, or better still, sell it off."
"I'll just pick up a few things," I replied, my voice tight with pain.
"No, take all the time you need. I didn't come for the house anyway." He walked around the room slowly. "Then why are you here?" I asked, worry creeping in.
"I'm sure you know by now. Your father owed a debt before his passing." He turned, looking directly into my eyes.
"I'm not quite sure about that. I saw the documents, but I'm meeting with my father's lawyer," I said, swallowing hard.
"Be sure to do that," he nodded, walking toward the door. "I'll see you around." He stepped out.
I stood there in silence for a while. I didn't stay away for four years just to crawl back into this mess. I needed to do something.
I walked back to my room and picked up my phone. I searched through my clothes for the card, then dialed the numbers one after another until finally I got a ring.
"Hello?" I said, unsure what I was expecting.
"I've been expecting your call," came the voice from the other end.
"I'll see you in an hour," I replied.
He finally came an hour later, which felt like an eternity to me. I briefed him on everything as I showed him the documents.
"These are genuine, Elara. Your father signed this," he said.
"Yeah, I know that," I replied.
"So you're telling me I'm going to give away my life just because my father owed some money?" I asked, my voice rising.
He kept quiet for some time.
"I'm going to reach out to someone and get back to you. You might receive a call from me anytime soon," he said as he hurriedly packed his bag.
"You can't just leave me here," I said.
"Here. Your father wanted you to have this." He handed me a letter.
I sighed as my stomach made some noise, I needed to eat. My phone rang, it was Isabella, I had promised to call her two days ago.
“Hey girl, I'm trying to get to you,” she said almost immediately.
“So sorry, it's a lot over here.” I can't possibly drag Isabella to my mess.
“You got me worried, I almost took the nearest train,” she chuckled. Typical isabella
“I'm so sorry.”
“I'd see you on Monday, right?” she asked.
“Of course, I wasn't sure myself.
“Alright bye”
A car honked outside, I looked through the window, a black SUV driving away.
“Are you there?” Isabella was still on th
e line
“Yeah, bye hon” I hanged up
I have got one day left to fix things and return to my normal life.
- Writer
